


Reciprocation

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Series: Sam Winchester Reader-inserts [29]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: Seeing the reader hurt brings out feelings Sam has kept hidden for a long, long time.Requested by @pocketcow, betaed by @manawhaat.





	

“Holy shit, that hurts,” you gasp, one hand bracing yourself against the cold concrete floor of the warehouse. Your other hand is pressed against your own side, covered in blood. **  
**

“I bet,” Dean says in as much a joking tone as he can manage given the current situation.

The older Winchester is taking the strips of gauze Sam hands him and wrapping them around your midsection in a desperate attempt to at least slow down the bleeding. You reluctantly drop your hand out of the way, groaning when Dean pulls the bandages tight. Your vision is fuzzy and black around the edges, and you know you’re not going to be able to stay conscious for much longer.

“You’re still bleeding too much,” Dean sighs, taping down the last piece of gauze. “You need a hospital. Sam, are you good to carry her?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sam nods, thick arms lifting you against his solid chest. There’s something funny about his voice, but you can’t decide what. “Start the car.”

You whine as Sam stands, your head falling back over his arm.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “It’s okay, we’re going to get you help. Just hang in there for me.”

Your body rocks in his arms as he slides into the backseat of the Impala. You can hear the familiar rumble of the engine, but it sounds miles away.

Sam cups your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Stay awake for me, Y/N. Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me about our first hunt together.”

You take as deep of a breath as you can, smiling a little at the memory. “It was a… a vampire nest.”

“That’s right. What else?”

“Dean didn’t want my help.”

Sam chuckles, the sound edged with pain. “Yeah. He changed his mind, though, right?”

“Right.” You’re struggling to keep your eyes open now, the pain threatening to drag you under. “After I… saved your ass.”

“Yeah, that’s right, you did.”

Your eyes are slipping shut and you can’t seem to be able to stop them. You sink into darkness, Sam calling your name the last sound you hear.

* * *

There’s still pain when you wake up, but it’s been reduced to a throbbing ache in your side, where that werewolf nearly ripped your guts out. Your head hurts, too, and there’s an obnoxious beeping that’s only making matters worse.

“Sam, that was stupid and you know it.”

Dean’s voice is low, but not angry. More frustrated and concerned.

“Shut up,” Sam snaps back.

“Sammy, you went berserk on that werewolf. I’ve never seen you like that before.”

Sam sighs. You can imagine him running his hands through his hair. “I know. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.”

The room is silent a moment as Sam waits for Dean to respond. You peek through your lashes to see Sam sitting by your bed, elbows braced against his knees, and Dean standing at the foot, arms folded over his chest. Dean clearly went back to the motel and cleaned up, but Sam didn’t. The front of his shirt is soaked in your blood. His hands look raw, like he scrubbed them too hard when he washed them.

“You’re in love with her,” Dean says finally.

Sam is quiet, and then he nods. You bite the inside of your lip to keep from reacting.

“How long?” the older brother asks.

“That first hunt- the vampire nest. When I saw her come through those doors, I knew. She was covered in blood and dirt, and swinging a machete like it was an extension of herself, and she was- is- the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

A year. Sam Winchester has been in love with you for a year.

“Our second hunt,” you manage to say, voice rough.

Sam’s head shoots up, eyes wide. “Y/N!”

You grab his hand when he reaches for you. “The ghost of that teenage girl,” you continue. “I opened my eyes and saw you, in the light of the burning grave, and I fell in love.”

Sam makes a choked sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and presses your hand to his mouth. You’re distantly aware of Dean leaving the room, probably to find a nurse, but you’re too focused on Sam to be sure.

“C’mere,” you murmur, tugging him toward you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid the various wires monitoring your vitals. At your encouragement, he folds to rest his head on your shoulder. You can feel his warm breath against your collarbone.

“I love you, Sam,” you tell him quietly.

He sniffs. “I love you, too.”

“So, I hear I missed out on your going berserk on a werewolf?”

Sam laughs. “You were a little busy bleeding out. I think I can forgive you.”

“Still. I bet it was hot.”


End file.
